Of the Fathers
by imWITCHIN
Summary: Kurt and Blaine are the fathers of two wonderful children, Daniel and Bernadette, but as every parent of a teenager can tell you, it's never easy. But at least they have each other. FutureKlaine! Fluffy family fic!
1. Chapter 1

*I don't own Glee but I would do unspeakable things to Ryan Murphy for the chance to.

**A/N- I don't live in NYC, and I never have, so please excuse any mistakes that I make when it comes to interaction with the city! If you want a visual for the Hummel-Anderson house, watch the Cosby show. When you read "Papa" make sure you hold the SECOND "a" and not the first so it's more Italian sounding. Also, we're going to go ahead and pretend that Kurt and Blaine live in a magical world where nothing in society, technology, or culture seriously progresses for the 24 years between their senior year and this fic. K? K. **

Part One

Kurt trod up the steps of the beautiful Manhattan brownstone, his buttery smooth leather messenger bag that carried his laptop seemingly getting heavier with every incline. He loved his job as Fashion Director of GQ Magazine, but dammit if the kids working there didn't take it out of him every day. Finally reaching the door, he turned his key and sidled through the gigantic mahogany door into the living room and smiled. On the couch sat his husband, clad in his after-work ensemble of sweatpants and Columbia University t-shirt, feet on the ottoman and arms spread out along the back of the couch. In the armchair to his left sat his son, in dark jeans and a polo, his light brown hair messy and his blue/gray eyes staring fixedly at the television.

"Chow, darlin'," Blaine said in a springy tone, looking from the TV to where Kurt had walked in. The latter walked behind the couch so as not to block the television, where it seemed an incredibly enthralling football game was in full swing, and kissed Blaine, whose head was lying flat on the back of the couch.

"How was work?" he asked Blaine as he walked behind his son and attempted to fix his unruly hair before his hand was gently swatted away.

"Same old, same old. Molded some minds, taught some verbs. As much as I'd like to think it will, Italian doesn't seem to change very much." Blaine laughed as he turned his attention back to the game. Kurt smiled; he knew how much Blaine loved teaching Italian at Columbia, his alma matter, even if he did complain about its mundaneness.

"Dan, how was school?" Kurt had sat on the couch to the left of Blaine to be closer to his son and crossed his legs as Blaine's arm lowered to tighten around his shoulders and massage his neck. Dan didn't look away from television and appeared not to have heard him. "I'll wait until commercial, then," Kurt murmured. Blaine chuckled and muted the TV as it launched into an advertisement for Doritos.

"Sorry, Dad," he said, turning to look at Kurt. "School was fine. I took my chemistry test; it was pretty much a joke. I don't see why everyone was bit- _whining_ so much about chemical reactions with aqueous solutions. It's really not that difficult to grasp."

"It doesn't come as naturally to others as it does to you, Daniel," said Kurt, standing up and kissing his son softly on the top of the head. "Did you get your school pictures back yet?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I gave them to Papa," said Dan, his attention fixed back on the TV.

"Kitchen table," Blaine said, smiling. "Very handsome." Kurt smiled back, nodding proudly.

"Where's your sister?" he asked, looking around as if he'd somehow missed her.

"She's upstairs in her room, moping about something," Dan replied. Kurt looked to his husband and raised an eyebrow. Blaine shrugged, shaking his head and rolling his eyes as if to say 'teenage girls; I don't even know'. Kurt walked around the back side of the couch, patting Blaine's shoulder as he passed, to the opposite side of the room and up the stairs. When he reached the landing, he walked to the first door on the right and knocked softly.

"Bernie?" he asked softly as he tapped. "Bernie, honey, open the door." He heard music coming from the room; sad, low, _depressing_ music. But he heard no response. "Bernie, sweetie, I want to talk to you please." Still no response. "Bernadette Elizabeth Hummel-Anderson, open this door right now." As he said it the door creaked and a tiny girl stood holding it open. At the sight of her Kurt's eyes widened.

Her normally pristine, sculpted black curls were in a tangled, frizzled mess. Her makeup, that she took such pride in doing artfully every single morning, no matter what she had planned for the day ahead, was smeared and dripping down her face. Instead of one of her _hundreds_ of adorable outfits, she wore yoga pants and an old, stained, gray sweatshirt. Her hazel eyes were bloodshot, she'd obviously been crying for quite awhile.

"Bernie! Sweetheart what happened?" He squatted slightly to be at her eye level and held her face between his hands. At right about five feet tall, she was a good ten inches shorter than him (a gene she inherited from her biological father). At fifteen- a year younger than her brother- she was confident, imaginative, creative, driven, and tough as nails. Tears rarely sought exodus from her eyes, so when they did, her family knew it was something serious. She looked straight at him, her beautiful eyes getting glassy again, and she flung her arms around Kurt's neck before she let out a tiny sob and cried softly into his shoulder. He shushed her and rubbed her back softly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked quietly, pulling her away so that he could see her face. She nodded and he followed her into her room where they sat down on the bed. He draped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him, still sniffling a little. "Now, what's wrong, Bernie?"

"It's Jess," she said, sitting up straight and staring down at her hands, clasped in her lap. "Daddy I-" she took a deep breath and looked Kurt straight in the eyes. "Daddy, I think I'm in love with him."

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Kurt and Blaine lay in their bed on their sides so that that they were face to face. Blaine's arm was draped over Kurt's hip and his thumb was gently tracing circles there. Looks of concern were etched on both their faces.

"_Jess?_ Really?" Blaine asked, apparently unable to grasp the concept.

"Well, they've been best friends for over four years now; I guess I can sort of understand." Kurt said, running a hand through his hair. "Evidently it took him getting a girlfriend for her to realize that _she_ wanted to be his girlfriend."

"But honestly, _Jess?" _Blaine sighed. It wasn't like he didn't like the kid. Jess Mancini was one of those people whose looks didn't match their personality at all. He was average height, and lean from years of competitive swimming. His black hair and tan skin always carried a hint of shine, whether it was from pool water, cooking oil, or hair grease. He came from the typical New York Italian family and had therefore learned that manners and hard work meant everything from a very young age. But underneath his polite air and good looks, he was one of the biggest nerds Blaine and Kurt had ever met. He loved Harry Potter, the Lord of the Rings, and read science fiction and comic books like they were sustenance of life. One thing he loved more than anything else was writing and illustrating his _own_ comics, which was how he and Bernie had become friends four years ago, at the beginning of their sixth grade year. They'd been joined at the hip ever since.

"Blaine, don't act like falling in love with your best friend is some kind of foreign concept to you," Kurt muttered, tucking some of Blaine's curls behind his ear.

"Hmm," Blaine hummed into the touch. "Of course not. But I just thought- you know- if it hadn't happened by now, it wasn't _going_ to happen." Kurt smiled at him.

"Sometimes it just takes something big for you to wake up and realize it, I guess."

"You don't seemed half as surprised as I do," said Blaine.

"I think I always suspected," Kurt sighed, shrugging. "The way she looks at him sometimes; I remember getting that look from you _hundreds_ of times, even if it was over twenty years ago."

"So what is she going to do?"

"She doesn't know yet. Obviously, she wants him to know. But he seems really happy with this girlfriend of his, and she doesn't want to risk losing her best friend."

"And what did you tell her she should do?" Blaine asked, furrowing his brow.

"I didn't. She wasn't really hunting for advice; she just wanted to talk about it. You know Bernie, very independent, very bottled up. She's definitely her father's daughter in that aspect." Kurt leaned in and gave Blaine a quick peck of a kiss. "Our baby girl's all grown up and falling in love." Blaine stared at his husband for a second, and both their eyes widened.

"I don't like it." Blaine stated, causing Kurt to chuckle as he held Blaine's cheek gently in his hand.

"Me neither," he sighed. "Wasn't it yesterday she was finger painting on Danny's sheets?"

"And the walls, and the rug, and the cat." They laughed together.

"Blaine," said Kurt, quietly. They had both closed their eyes and were slipping quietly into sleep. " We're getting _old_." Blaine let out a soft groan, eyes not opening. Kurt turned over so that Blaine's chest was flush against his back, arm still draped over his hip.

"We're the parents of _teenagers_." Kurt let out his own, slightly louder groan. "Will you still love me when they're both gone and you're stuck in the house with me all alone?" Blaine smiled as he said it, resting his forehead against the back of Kurt's shoulder.

"I've put up with you this long. It would take so much effort to get used to someone new this late in the game." Blaine let out a tiny laugh that was muffled by Kurt's back. "Plus," he said, pulling Blaine's left hand, currently tracing circles on his hip, up to Kurt's own chest and fingering the ring that sat on it, "there's the little matter of this thing." Blaine lifted his head and moved it so his lips were righ behind Kurt's ear.

"So then I guess you're stuck with me," he whispered. Kurt smiled.

"Likewise."

**A/N – Just wrote this as little break from my other story The First Splash is the Coldest, which you should definitely check out if you need something to read! I love writing futureKlaine, it's so much less restricting. I think I'll add to this sporadically, but please REVIEW and tell me if you like the family so far! **


	2. Chapter 2

*I don't own Glee but I would do unspeakable things to Ryan Murphy for the chance to.

**A/N- I don't live in NYC, and I never have, so please excuse any mistakes that I make when it comes to interaction with the city! If you want a visual for the Hummel-Anderson house, watch the Cosby show. When you read "Papa" make sure you hold the SECOND "a" and not the first so it's more Italian sounding. Also, we're going to go ahead and pretend that Kurt and Blaine live in a magical world where nothing in society, technology, or culture seriously progresses for the 24 years between their senior year and this fic. K? K. **

Part Two

Blaine smelled it before he had reached the bottom half of the steps; something was burning. He halted midway through his walk down and smelled the air questioningly before flying down the remaining steps and through the kitchen door on the opposite side of the living room. There at the table sat his son, head cradled by his arms on the table, fast asleep. Looking for the source of the burning smell, Blaine saw smoke escaping from the oven and he ran over to turn it off. Opening the door he saw two iced strawberry pop-tarts lying bare on a rack, burnt to charcoal with filling dripping to the floor of the oven, causing the smoke.

He coughed, opening the back door and the kitchen window, trying to fan out the smoke. Daniel still slept soundly on the kitchen table. Blaine walked over to him after he made sure there was no immediate need for the fire department and shook his shoulder gently.

"Dan? Son, wake up." Daniel awoke with a start, glancing around frenziedly.

"Wha- What happened?" He took a breath, sniffing the air. "Is the house on fire?" He glanced at the clock before jumping to his feet, eyes practically popping out of his head. "Crap! I'm late for school. Dammit, now I'll have the take the subway and I'll be even later. Where's my pop-tart?" He ran to the oven, saw the sticky mess inside and rushed back to the table where Blaine sat, but did not look at him. "No pop-tart, that's ok. Where's my back pack? Ok. Wallet? Ok. I'll see you later, Pa."

"Dan-" Blaine started.

"Can't talk right now Pa, I'm running really _really_ late. After school, ok?" Daniel was still making his way towards the door, muttering to himself.

"DANIEL," Blaine said in his no-nonsense-father voice. Dan turned around quickly, face displaying confusion. "You're not late."

"Papa, it's almost 8, if I don't leave right _now_ I'm going to miss first period!" His face was pleading, red and blotchy from anxiety.

"No you won't," Blaine said calmly. Daniel seemed to lose patience and flung his hands down to his sides and tossed his head back in exasperation.

"And _why_, make I ask, won't I?" He glared at his father, who was glaring straight back.

"Because," Blaine said, crossing his legs, "it's Saturday, Dan." Blaine watched as his son seemed to deflate before his very eyes. Dan slunk back to the table before collapsing into the chair beside Blaine's and holding his forehead between both hands. Blaine reached out and rubbed big circles on his back as he spoke.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" But at that moment Bernie walked in, still clad in pajamas, hair in a messy pony-tale.

"Morning Papa," she said, giving him a quick kiss- a Daddy's girl through and through. She glanced at Daniel. "Ugh, what happened to your face?" He didn't answer her but instead laid his head back down in his arms on the table. Bernie walked over the fridge, but saw the oven still leaking smoke as she passed. "Oh my god, Daniel, what did you _DO_?" Blaine jumped up from his seat and walked over to her, getting close to that she could only hear via whisper.

"Honey I need to speak to your brother alone for alone for a moment, ok?" Bernie shrugged and nodded, picking an apple out of the fruit bowl as she left; stopping only to ruffle Daniel's hair. Blaine sat back down in his seat and Dan raised his head to look at him. "So are you going to tell me what's wrong or am I going to have to guess?"

"It's these stupid AP classes. There's so much work every single night; I have readings to do, note cards to make, tables to finish, data to interpret, essays to annotate, essays to _write_, and experiments to hypothesize. I stayed up until almost 3:30 am last night, Pa, and I never even once thought about the fact that it was Friday. And it's not that any of it is very hard it's just…there's just so much! I'm tired _all the time_, Papa. But every time I stop working for more than a couple hours I start freaking out about not finishing or about not doing everything right. It's suffocating me!" His voice cracked on the last word and he scrunched up his face like he was trying not to cry. Blaine pulled him in for a hug, holding his head to his chest and stroking his messy brown hair. When he had finished crying, Blaine spoke.

"Do you think maybe it would be ok to drop one of your AP classes? What exactly are you taking anyway?" Dan began counting on his fingers.

"AP US History, AP English Language and Composition, AP Chemistry, AP Art History, AP Italian, AP Stats, and AP Biology." Dan seemed exhausted by just listing them, and Blaine let out a low whistle.

"That's less of class schedule and more of a death sentence." Dan let out a humorless laugh. "How about dropping the non-essentials? You really don't need AP Art History. You hate art. And I'm sorry, but you're going to have to choose between the sciences and take one next year." Blaine patted his son gently on the shoulder as he looked up at him.

"That _would_ seriously cut down on the amount of pointless busy work I would have to do. But what about college?" He looked at his father with genuine worry in his face. Blaine chuckled softly.

"Dan, people much dimmer than you have gotten into good, even great, colleges. How about, now that you'll have a little more free time, you take up an extracurricular activity? That always looks good on an application, trust me." As he said it, Kurt walked through the kitchen door giving Blaine a good morning kiss and heading straight to the coffee pot.

"But it's too late to join any fall sport team, and I'm not really good at anything besides studying."

"How about a Quiz Bowl team? Or maybe the Mathletes?" Dan shook his head.

"The Mathlete tryouts started in the summer; they're already deep into competition season. And the Quiz Bowl team is run by Mr. Diaca, who's hated me ever since I corrected his incorrect usage of the word 'whom' in front of the vice principal." Dan smiled guiltily as Kurt laughed from where he stood by the coffee maker. Pouring two cups, he walked cautiously back to the table and set one in front of Blaine before sitting down beside him.

"What about glee club?" Kurt asked, sipping his coffee tentatively. Dan gave him a blank stare and Blaine's eyes widened with excitement.

"Yes! Yes, how about glee club, Dan? They're always looking for new members! And you have a wonderful voice." Blaine glanced at Kurt softly. "It's hereditary. Plus, glee club is practically sacred to this family." He grabbed Kurt's hand and kissed it softly. "And you'll make friends that might even change your life." Blaine and Kurt were gazing at each other now, flashing back to a time years and years ago when singing together in glee club was their one escape from the rest of the world; the world that didn't understand them or welcome them. Dan groaned.

"Yeah ok, ok, I'll join glee club; just stop looking at each other that way please! It's sickening!" He jumped up from his seat. "I'm going back to bed now," he said as he walked out the kitchen door. Blaine and Kurt had not looked away from each other.

"Hmm, ok sleep tight, honey," said Kurt, his focus never leaving Blaine's eyes. "I changed your life, huh?" he asked, smiling coyly.

"You _are_ my life, darlin'. And if you think I don't thank glee club everyday for bringing me you, you're crazy." Blaine reached out his other hand, tracing Kurt's jaw before kissing him, soft and slow, breathing heavily. When they broke apart, Kurt moved his mouth so that it was right beside Blaine's ear.

"You know, I think I might go back to bed too." Blaine grinned wide, hand moving to Kurt's knee and squeezing it.

"Funny. I was thinking the same thing…" They walked up the stairs, Kurt leading and dragging Blaine behind him by his hand. When they reached the second bedroom on the right, they entered together, giggling, and Blaine locked the door behind them.

**A/N – Guys, I promise it's going to get more exciting! I just have to introduce and give you a little bit about the characters before I can really start doing stuff with them. Review! Tell me what you think! **


	3. Chapter 3

*I don't own Glee but I would do unspeakable things to Ryan Murphy for the chance to.

**A/N- I don't live in NYC, and I never have, so please excuse any mistakes that I make when it comes to interaction with the city! If you want a visual for the Hummel-Anderson house, watch the Cosby show. When you read "Papa" make sure you hold the SECOND "a" and not the first so it's more Italian sounding. Also, we're going to go ahead and pretend that Kurt and Blaine live in a magical world where nothing in society, technology, or culture seriously progresses for the 24 years between their senior year and this fic. K? K. **

Part Three

It was late one Friday night when Kurt and Blaine sat close on the couch, watching A Philadelphia Story on one of the HBO channels. Bernie was upstairs, working on finishing up paintings for a forthcoming art show, and Daniel was over at a friend's. Kurt sighed with contentment as he leaned his head on Blaine's shoulder.

"I've always loved this movie. Nothing beats Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn," said Kurt, smiling to himself. Blaine looked down at him, smiling as well.

"And let's not forget the classic performance by Jimmy Stewart, a personal favorite of mine," added Blaine, his fingers gently massaging the back of Kurt's neck. He was leaning down for a kiss when he heard the loud banging of the front door slamming open and he and Kurt were on their feet in a second. There, clutching the door frame for support, was Daniel.

His hair was in a state of absolute chaos and it looked as though someone might have spilled Kool-Aid on a side of it. His cardigan, which was new and a gift from Kurt for joining glee club, was ripped in four different places with red stains seeping out around them. Every inch of him looked filthy; coated in dirt and some dried blood. But the really startling sight was his face. Blood oozed out of a fat lip while his right eye was turned a sickening shade of purple. His cheeks were so red it looked like clown make-up, and there was a gash on his forehead running from left eyebrow to hairline.

"Daniel!" They gasped in unison.

He attempted to stagger in the doorway, but his dads were at his sides before he had the chance to fall flat on his face. They guided him back to the couch, Kurt's face white as a sheet and Blaine's eyebrows knotted low on his brow.

"Blaine; first aid kit and towels," Kurt said, rubbing Dan's back and trying to keep him from closing his eyes. Blaine nodded wordlessly and ran to the stairs. Dan let out a long, low groan and held his stomach. "And a bucket too, please," Kurt yelled in the direction of the stairs. Blaine practically flew up them, not realized he was breathing very hard, but never opened his mouth for fear if he did screaming would automatically erupt from it. As he reached the top of the stairs, Bernie opened her bedroom door and peaked out of it but Blaine did not stop and look at her and instead headed straight for the cabinet in the bathroom.

"Papa, what's going on?" Bernie asked, looking confused and worried. Blaine did not look at her but instead wet a few washcloths before he continued his raid of the bathroom cupboard, pulling out old towels and the first aid kit and tucking them under one arm before tucking the little plastic trash can under the other.

"It's Dan. Something's happened," he said, beginning to run back downstairs.

"What?" she shouted down after him. "What's happened?" No one answered.

Blaine was already back downstairs, handing everything to Kurt and taking his place rubbing circles on Dan's back. Kurt dabbed gently at the bleeding wounds with the wet wash cloth and inspected all of his injuries before deciding they didn't need to go to a hospital.

"He's drunk, Blaine," Kurt hissed over Dan's back as he doubled over to throw up in the garbage can.

"No 'm not," slurred Dan, head still partially in the trash. Kurt raised his eyebrow at Blaine. Dan raised his head out of the bin slowly and leaned his head back on the couch, taking a gulp from the glass of water Blaine handed him. "Not _that_ drunk, anyway."

"What happened, sweetie? I thought you were at Greg's house; and I know his parents are home," Kurt said, his tone hardening at the end of the sentence. Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he looked up to see Bernie standing beside, ice pack in hand, holding it out to him. "Thanks honey," he said, off-hand, and placed the ice pack tenderly on Dan's eye.

"I was at Greg's, but…" he looked sheepishly at his father. "Well, we heard Frannie Gorstein was having a party, and she lives in the building right next door to Greg's so…we snuck out the fire escape." Kurt's eyes bulged.

"Daniel Scott Hummel-Anderson, how dare-"Kurt began, but he was cut off my Blaine.

"Kurt. I don't think that's the _end_ of the story," Blaine said sternly, still looking at Dan. "What happened after you got to the party, Dan?" Daniel took a few more gulps of water and deep breaths before diving back into the story.

"We got to the party and I promised not to get too drunk so that I could get us back into Greg's apartment later. It was packed. Everyone was there." He took one long deep breath. "Unfortunately, that meant Damien Cooper and his little gang were there too. After about an hour at the party, and only a few drinks he really set into me. I ran out through Frannie's fire escape and walked back here." Kurt and Blaine looked at each other, horrified and confused.

"Who's Damien Cooper, Dan?" Kurt asked. But Dan's head was back in the bucket and he was retching again. Kurt heard a soft voice behind him.

"He's this druggie who bullies Dan into cheating for him." Bernie said, her eyes never leaving the back of her brother's head. Dan turned to glare at her, eyes red. "What? I know you didn't plan on telling anyone Daniel, so I did it for you. If you don't _do_ something about it he's just going to keep doing it!"

"I can handle him myself," grunted Dan. Bernie snorted with malicious laughter.

"Oh, obviously," she says, motioning to his bleeding lip and puffy right eye.

"Bernie," Blaine said in a serious tone, "go back to bed please." Bernie glared at Dan for a few more seconds before her look softened to one of pity and she turned to walk back up the stairs. They sat in silence for a few moments, Dan taking sips of water and not looking at either of his fathers.

"Is that true, Daniel? What she said?" Kurt asked, quietly.

"Not anymore," Dan replied, his voice hoarse. "A couple weeks ago I told him I wasn't going to cheat for him anymore. He's sorta been after me ever since. But he's never been able to do anything since I've always been at school." More silence.

"Not that I'm not _wondrously_ proud of you, but why did you decide to stop helping him cheat?" Blaine asked, running fingers through Dan's hair looking for bumps and massaging his scalp soothingly. Dan sighed and his cheeks flushed.

"At school," he began, slowly, "I've always been the nerd. Those were my only friends; that was my group. And doing homework for people bigger and more violent than you is just part of that lifestyle." He took one long deep breath. "But then I joined glee club. And there were all these different people from different cliques joined together just because they love to sing. And I just thought 'None of my _new_ friends do other people's work for them. Why should I? Why should that be who I am?'" Blaine looked to Kurt, whose face was deeply flushed and looked as if he was about to cry.

"Blaine," said Kurt, his voice cracking slightly, "could you get him some more water please?" Blaine nodded, realizing that his husband needed a private moment with his son, and took the cup into the kitchen, letting the door swing behind him. As Blaine left the room, Dan turned to look at Kurt, who was smiling sadly at him. One look at his perfectly understanding face and Daniel finally gave into heaving sobs. Kurt pulled him into his arms and held his head to his chest.

"Dad…" he sobbed into Kurt's chest.

"Shh, I know sweetheart. Trust me, I know _exactly_ how you're feeling right now." Dan continued to cry into his father's chest. "But I am _so proud_ of you. You were so brave, standing up for yourself. And we're going to make sure this Damien kid gets what's coming for him. No one does this," he holds Dan's chin delicately between in his hand and looks at the fat lip, gash, and black eye, "to my son's perfect face and gets away with it." Dan sniffled before wrapping his father in a tight hug.

"Thank you." Kurt can barely hear him say what comes next; his face is buried in his shoulder. "I love you, Daddy." Kurt hurriedly swallows the gigantic lump forming in his throat. After sixteen years of fights, awkwardness, miscommunication, growing up, growing old, and growing apart, his son, his little baby boy, still needed his daddy.

**A/N – I just really love this family! AKA I'm really writing this for my own shits and giggles now so it could get incredibly sappy up in here. :D Please review and tell me what you think! I'm going to do some more Bernie-focused things soon so gets yourselves ready! **


	4. Chapter 4

*I don't own Glee but I would do unspeakable things to Ryan Murphy for the chance to.

**A/N- I don't live in NYC, and I never have, so please excuse any mistakes that I make when it comes to interaction with the city! If you want a visual for the Hummel-Anderson house, watch the Cosby show. When you read "Papa" make sure you hold the SECOND "a" and not the first so it's more Italian sounding. Also, we're going to go ahead and pretend that Kurt and Blaine live in a magical world where nothing in society, technology, or culture seriously progresses for the 24 years between their senior year and this fic. K? K. **

Part Four

"So, what are you doing this Friday?" Jess asked, as he turned the page of his History book. It was four o'clock on a Tuesday and he was perched in his usual spot against the headboard on Bernie's bed. The latter sat at her desk, not looking up from where she was sketching furiously.

"Um, nothing that I know of. Dan's grounded so we can't really go anywhere. Why, what's up?" She tried to make herself appear calm, while inside her stomach was preparing for its Olympic medal in gymnastics. Jess shrugged.

"I was, uh, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go to dinner with me and Becs." He tried to make it sound as natural as possible, like it was a totally normal proposal to ask your best friend out to dinner with your girlfriend. Bernie still didn't look up from her drawing as she tried to hide her disappointment and the flush in her cheeks that accompanied it. She attempted to shake off the awkwardness before he could hear it in her response.

"Oh. Geez, I really don't want to be a third wheel, Jess. I'm gonna bet the last thing Rebecca wants on her date is an _extra _date."

"Come on, it'll be fun," Jess said, almost begging.

"No, I don't think so. She won't want me there," Bernie murmured, shaking her head to herself.

"Actually," Jess growled, "you have _no idea_ what she would want! You know why? Because in the three months that Becs and I have been dating, you haven't even been in the same room as her. You don't know her at all!" His face was red and he had completely abandoned his history book.

"Why is it such a big deal?" Bernie whispered.

"Because, Bern! You're my best friend! She's my girlfriend! Outside my immediate family, you're the two most important people in my life. I want you to be able to be friends! And I want you to…" He broke off and looked back down at his lap. "I want your opinion on her. I need to know that you approve." Bernie's gaze finally left her sketches and she looked up at him, sadly. He was her best friend, and this was important to him. She stood up and went to sit beside him on the bed, resting her head gently on his shoulder.

"Of course I'll go to dinner, Jess. What are friends for?" She smiled as he leaned his head to the side to rest on hers.

Outside in the hall, Kurt sighed to himself from where he had been eavesdropping. His poor, darling girl.

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Kurt let what felt like the millionth sigh of frustration as he sat at his desk on that Wednesday afternoon. GQ had recently hired an assistant fashion director to help Kurt out with non-cover photo shoots and he was now holding the results of the most recent in his hands, groaning. The outfits were awful; clashing, out of season, ill-fitting, and simply horrendous. Even in the large stack of photos on his desk, Kurt couldn't find a single one he felt comfortable putting in the magazine. Just as he was about to pick up the phone and fire the first five people to answer his call, he heard a soft tap on his office door and looked up.

"Blaine!" Kurt gasped, tension leaking out of him just at the sight of his husband.

"Is this a bad time? You look like you're about to go on some sort of Bloody Mary-esque killing rampage." Blaine smiled as he walked into Kurt's office and leaned over the desk to give him a hello kiss.

"Ugh, well several people were about to lose their _jobs_ but as far as I was concerned, they didn't have _heads_ for me to cut off anyway." He leaned back and straightened Blaine's tie for him. "To what do I own this pleasant surprise?"

"I gave a test today that didn't last nearly as long as I thought it would, so I finished early. Figured I'd take you out for a late lunch, since I'm assuming you've been too busy with whatever this is to eat." He motioned at the mountains of photos strewn over the desk. Kurt smiled and let out a deep breath. He had the perfect husband.

"That," he said, leaning in a kissing Blaine again, "sounds exactly like what I need. Let me just get packed up so we can go home afterwards. I really don't think I can deal with this rationally today." As Kurt packed up his computer and several different notebooks, Blaine shuffled through the stacks of photographs.

"Hmm, wow." He murmured as his brow furrowed.

"What?" Kurt asked, still packing up.

"Nothing. I just- I really don't understand high fashion these days," Blaine said, still examining the pictures with a confused look on his face, like he was trying to find Waldo somewhere within them.

"What are you talking abo- OH!" Kurt said, laughing as he realized what Blaine was doing. "Oh, honey. These are _not_ high fashion. These," he said, picking one up and ripping it in half, "are someone's resignation notice." Blaine laughed.

"Oh, thank god. I was a tiny bit worried I was going to start seeing people wearing things like that up and down the street." Blaine chuckled as he grabbed Kurt's hand and they walked side by side to the elevator and out of the building.

"I'm worried about Bernie," Kurt said as they sat in one of their favorite cafes, sipping steaming cups of coffee and waiting for their food to arrive.

"Because of the whole 'Jess' thing?" Blaine asked, blowing softly at his mug. Kurt nodded. "Me too. But she's a smart girl; she knows what she's doing."

"He asked her to come to dinner with his girlfriend. She agreed."

"What? Why would she do that? That can only lead to more hurt." Blaine shook his head slightly and took another sip of his coffee as Kurt starred at him.

"Just trust me when I say, honey, that unrequited love- especially for your best friend- can be a real bitch." Kurt winked at him, and Blaine's face instantly softened. He reached his hand across the table to grab Kurt's, and squeezed it gently.

"Have I mentioned lately how sorry I am for putting you through that?"

"Well," sighed Kurt, "seeing as it was almost twenty five years ago, and we've been married for quite a few of those years, I'd say you were forgiven a while ago." Blaine kissed his knuckles. They pulled apart as their food arrived and dove into in ravenously. When they finally slowed down, Blaine spoke.

"So I was thinking," he said, wiping his mouth on his napkin.

"Mmm?" Kurt hummed in response, mouth still full.

"Well, I was thinking that maybe we should go somewhere for Chirstmas." Kurt swallowed and reached for his wine glass.

"Oh? Where to? Back to Italy? France? The kids have never seen Paris during the holidays," Kurt said as he raised the glass to his lips.

"No. No, actually, I was thinking maybe we should go to Lima."

**A/N – Just a little transition chapter to get me back in the swing of this story after being away from it for so long! Hope you don't mind focus on OCs for awhile because I like writing them. Review please! **


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